Wolves Howl
by AyYouFiction
Summary: aSoIaF/HG/EQ fusion. The struggle between elves and humans has been a very violent, very bloody story for thousands of years. You can't really blame the humans, having to defend what's theirs against the invaders. And you can't blame the elves for just trying to survive in this world they were stranded on, this world of Two Moons. Gendrya, Everlark, others to be revealed.
1. Prologue

_Thanks to all of you who reviewed to help in the decision!  
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_This story will have characters from Hunger Games and the A Song of Ice and Fire series of books in the Elfquest universe. It gives me __the opportunity to play with two of my favorite couples (Everlark and Gendrya) from the perspective of my two favorite lead females (Arya and Katniss). It's a chance to explore their differences and similarities, and I get to do it in an Elfquest environment. Win, win, win._

_Names have been changed to fit the environment from which each character comes from. Who the characters are should become clear over time through their histories and personalities, but if you really want to know who a particular character is, just ask._

_Two final warnings: Some characters may not be introduced until later in the story for their storyline to kick off. Patience is a virtue here. Also, this story will earn an MA rating eventually, but to accommodate rules here, will be edited to an M. For the full version, see my AO3 account. _

_All elements originating from the respective fandoms belong solely to their respective fandoms.  
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><p>The days are getting warmer but there's still a chill that winds its way into the den. Flame snuggles in closer to her younger brothers for the added warmth because pulling the furs will only lead to a struggle, leaving someone cocooned while the other two freeze. As wild as her baby brother is, she wouldn't bet on it being her cocooned.<p>

Even as she drifts somewhere between wake and sleep, she's amused by how well her baby brother's named: Wildwind. Because that is what he is. They say the wolf blood in all of them sings, but his howls. They say that if the wolf blood were a river, he fell in head first. Flame can't say much about it because what they say about her isn't far from it. They say that if Wildwind fell in, she wades in it hip-deep.

Her other brother, Highbranch, barely has the wolf's blood sing in him. Their mother used to say that he was all elf with his eyes always to the tips of the trees. It has never been just his eyes, though, which was always the source of their mother's grief. Highbranch always seeks his namesake, no matter how high in the treetops he is, he always seeks that higher branch.

Sensitive ears pick up the rustling of something outside their den, so Flame opens her eyes and notices that the sun's rays are long gone. It's not quite dark, but the sun is definitely setting. The entire holt will wake soon, as few as there are, but someone must've woken early.

The den is only large enough to sit upright in a kneeling position, and the opening is smaller than that, but it's enough for its purpose: sleeping.

Peeking outside, she doesn't see anyone, so she crouches out for a better look. All of the other dens in the massive tree they call home are quiet. Most of them are empty, but the others house what's left of her tribe inside them.

There's no way she's going back to sleep, so she squeezes out of the den completely and reaches for the nearest branch to make her jump for the ground. Highbranch is far more graceful at it, but she's an elf and can hold her own.

It's only now that she hears them, the steady drumbeats in the distance from the human village.

"They started early in the day and haven't stopped since."

Her cousin, Crow, is sitting on a fallen log not far from their home tree, using a stone to sharpen his old troll sword. His eyes are focused on his task but the dark circles under them makes it clear that he hasn't slept all day with the rest of their tribe. Flame knows why, and she understands completely. Whenever the human drums sound all day and last into the night, it means ritual. And whenever there's a ritual, there's an elf held captive by the humans for sacrifice.

It's a fact that each and ever member of their tribe knows all too well because they've all lost loved ones to humans. They've all had someone die at that hands of those dumb brutes. "We have to gather, call everyone to see who's missing."

Crow shakes his head and continues to sharpen his blade. "I checked every den. Everyone's accounted for."

"That can't be," Flame argues, because it can't. The humans have never held their long rituals without an elf in their midst.

The openings of the dens above them stir as the entire holt wakes. Soft whispers turn to normal tones and laughter as the members of their tribe work their way down to the ground for the evening.

"Count for yourself," her cousin tells her, not missing a stroke of the whetstone. There's no mistaking the edge to his words or the bunched muscles at this shoulders. Even though he believes there's no one missing, the drumbeats have him on edge all the same.

Flame watches her brothers leave their den. Highbranch immediately climbs up to the top of the tree while Wildwind slips down to the ground. Their sister, Snowbloom, emerges from the den she shares with her friends, Spark, Gentlemist, and Oak. They've shared a den together for almost an entire turn of the seasons now.

They aren't lifemates, not even lovemates, but after so many from their tribe were killed by humans the last turn, they decided to tree together rather than sleep alone. It's no secret Snowbloom prefers their company to that of Flame and their brothers.

Flame watches as Oak stands at the bottom of their home tree, holding his arms up and out to offer help to his female companions to climb down. Spark doesn't accept his offer, but Gentlemist does, and Snowbloom certainly does. It's times like these that make Flame wonder if her sister's too gentle for the forest. If the wolf blood that courses through their bodies were a river, Snowbloom would be the one running and screaming from it.

Just as everyone settles on the ground, all except Highbranch, their wolves meander into the holt from their own den. Wolves and elves greet their bondmates as they've done since the beginning of their tribe because they share the ancient bloodline that connects elf to wolf, that connects elf to this World of Two Moons that they originally did not belong.

Nymeria doesn't hesitate as she pads her way beside Flame who notices her wolf's agitation. Their wolf-friends know the dangers of the human drumbeats just as well as the elves. It doesn't help that her wolf may have also sensed her own nervousness through the telepathic bond they share.

Crow's wolf friend, Shadow, comes up to him and nuzzles at his knee, but there's no response other than his methodical sharpening of his blade.

"They don't do this unless they've captured one of us," Flame sighs to him, finally admitting that he was right, there aren't any of them missing.

He finally looks up from his whetstone and blade. There's a hard look in his eyes, harder than she's ever seen. It bothers her because for her entire life she's seen nothing but gentleness and kindness in Crow's eyes. When her sister was cruel, when her brothers ignored her, when her parents eyes were hard with disappointment, his were always there to make her feel safe and loved.

He was all she had left for support when her parents and older brother died at the hands of the humans. Now, his eyes are hard and there is a thirst for blood behind them.

He rubs at the bridge of his nose, and his weariness surrounds him like a cloud. "We should scout the village. See what's got them so worked up," he says and a young voice from their side chimes in. "I want to go, too!"

It's Wildwind standing and pulling himself to his full height, trying to end his wrestling match with his wolf friend. Unfortunately, not having reached adulthood yet, Shaggywolf doesn't seem to take the hint.

**Absolutely not!**

The thought is from Crow, telepathically sent to Wildwind, meant only for Wildwind, but it's so strong and emotionally charged that it bleeds into nearby minds. Flame winces along with her baby brother at it, and they notice that the eyes of the rest of the tribe are on them. Snowbloom's fingers are caught in her auburn hair, frozen midway as she was combing it through to style.

Everyone knows Snowbloom treasures the length and color of her hair, which is why Flame wants to cut it so badly.

**Is this about the human drums?** Snowbloom asks, sending out her telepathic message for only Flame and Crow to receive while continuing to style her hair with her fingers.

**Yes,** Crow answers, but Flame sends her more. It's nothing but feelings of dread and confusion as to what do do next. Snowbloom nods and returns to the conversation she was having with the others.

There's one who doesn't give up so easily, though. Highbranch drops down from some limb above them and stays in place long enough for Longheat, his wolf friend, to greet him with a quick lick on the chin. After the wolf's gesture, Highbranch strides up to Flame and Crow and adds, "I'm going with you." It's not a request.

Going into the village is the most dangerous thing they can do. Since all of their tribesmen are accounted for, it's harm that they'll be putting themselves in unnecessarily. They know they shouldn't, but Crow and Flame are of the same mind that it's still a good idea to find out what's roused their enemy. Taking her little brothers is a different matter.

**It might be a good thing to have them around. More eyes,** she sends her thoughts to her cousin for only him to receive, and watches as he waves his hands and shakes his head in response. Her little brothers heads swivel from one to the other, watching them have the silent conversation about them. Wildwind's growing impatient, but he knows one outburst would mean automatically being left behind.

**They're too young, only cubs,** is the thought that Crow sends back to her, and her reply to that is more of a feeling that a focused thought. It's the concept of age and how by their tribe's standards, all of them are considered cubs, too young to go near the human village. Essentially, that's all that's left of their tribe are cubs, none considered adults yet, not even Crow.

At first, he doesn't have a response, but then when he does, he tries to appeal to her sentimentality. **They are all that's left of your family,** he reminds her.

It's funny how the one person in their tribe who knows her the best could make such a misstep. Flame is a lot of things, but sentimental isn't one of them. She misses her parents and her older brother, and all those lost to the humans, but the wolf blood sings in her. She lives in the now, in the very moment where past and future are fleeting thoughts in comparison. They are her brothers, and she loves them very much, but she can't and would never want to shield them from life. And unfortunately, living with the threat of humans is a part of their life.

All of these thoughts are sent to him as unfocused as they are, but they are enough. Crow relents, giving her a slight nod that's barely noticeable.

Highbranch and Wildwind are still watching their silent exchange, and it seems when Crow nods, they release a breath they might have been holding the whole time. Wildwind whoops while a relaxed smile spreads across Highbranch's face.

Crow releases a thought, open for everyone to receive: **The human drums sound. We have to see why.**

The four others that have been outside of the conversation the whole time are now looking with wide eyes. Snowbloom's eyes have the shine of threatening tears. If ever there was a sentimental elf in the family, she would be it as she considers the last of her family riding off towards the humans. Her wolf friend's nose tickles at her side to get her attention, and Snowbloom wraps her arm around her. "Maiden," she cries into her wolf's fur as Spark and Gentlemist try to console her.

That's the last thing Flame sees before her brothers, her cousin and their wolves race to their destination. Nymeria is only moments behind them.

Flame sprints to keep pace with Nymeria before gripping a handful of fur at the back of her wolf's neck and slipping on to her back. The wolf's only been riding size since the last newgreen and it took almost three moons to get the hang of it, but they've developed a smoother routine, now.

Her cousin hops onto his wolf with practiced grace, no doubt the kind that can only come from a few more seasons of experience.

Her brothers are different, though. Their wolves aren't old enough to ride, not that they need them for it. Already at the very top of the trees is Highbranch, leaping from one limb to the next with the same speed as Longheat races across the ground below.

Ahead of her, Wildwind runs alongside Shaggywolf, out-pacing all others easily and are the first at the edge of the human village. Flame focuses her mind to telepathically send him a thought, a frantic warning for him not to enter the village without them. When she feels the same thought at the same time from Highbranch and Crow, she almost laughs. They all know her baby brother too well.

What they receive back from the youngest elf among them is trailed with annoyance, but thankfully he makes it clear that he won't do anything until the rest catch up with him. There's only truth in sending thoughts, so Flame breathes a sigh of relief, that is, until they reach the boundary of the village.

There's a tall stone wall the humans erected during the days of Flame's father's childhood nearly Three hundred turns ago, protecting them from elves and other humans. It spans higher than any adult human which means that it's over double the height of the tallest elf. Crouched on the balls of their feet are human guards at all four corners of the wall, their keen eyes watching and their sharp spears ready to pierce elven flesh.

There's no way for them to attack them head on—it's how they'd lost half their tribe over a turn ago—so they lay on their bellies under the dense foliage of bushes nearby to discuss how to sneak inside. Elves have always had this advantage, the ability for silent conversation as they share their thoughts freely and quietly.

Flame suggests rushing at them, using surprise as a weapon. Crow suggests waiting for the darkest part of night and try to scale the walls. Highbranch suggests using the wolves as a diversion as they sneak inside. They can't agree on one, but Flame notices that there's one who's remained silent throughout their mental conversation, so she sends her baby brother an encouraging thought, **Have any ideas? Come on and share.**

She expects that he lacks the self confidence to add to the conversation, but she doesn't expect him to suggest the unthinkable. **What about the troll caverns?**

There's something else layered with his thought, a fear of having something exposed along with it.

**What is it you're not telling me?** she asks him and doesn't get an answer right away. It's been so long since she'd contributed to the conversation with Highbranch and Crow that they're looking at her and Wildwind with curiosity, recognizing another conversation going on when they see it.

Wildwind plucks a leaf from the bush mindlessly, trying to avoid looking at them or answering, but she won't let him, repeating her thought.

**I've been exploring the caverns for almost a turn of the seasons. I know them like the back of my hand,** he sends to her, and all of the warnings and rules taught to her since she was a cub at her mother's breast floods Flame's mind that instant. Elves and trolls had a tentative friendship over the years, held only by the desire to trade and the honor of two leaders that have died since. Less friendly trolls would sooner gut an elf on sight than offer a bargain.

When the trolls left, tired of their own struggles against the quickly spreading humans, they were told not to go into the abandoned caverns for fear of stragglers. A turn? It seems her brother didn't feel the need to heed their father's wishes once he died. Flame knows she should be angry with him for disrespecting their father that way, but she also reminds herself that her brother has the wolf blood howling in his ear, screaming of how the past has passed, and the rules of a dead chief no longer apply when there's new territory to explore.

The problem is that they don't have a chief anymore. Crow refuses to accept the responsibility and Snowbloom would crumble under the weight of it. That would leave Flame, but she doesn't even know who she is. How can she lead everyone else until she does?

She relays Wildwind's thought to the others and watches as their faces twist with disapproval. Wildwind shrinks from their eyes on him but she sends him a quick thought of support and encouragement. He's more wolf than elf and the result was a foolish act, but perhaps they will benefit from it, tonight.

**Lead us, then,** Crow sends openly, but there's no mistaking the anger the thought is wrapped in.

Wildwind swallows hard and crawls back from the bushes with the others following him.


	2. Into the Village

_This is not the winner with only 2 reviews (here and AO3) and 5 kudos (AO3) . This new chapter was half written when I posted the first and I finished it while waiting for the tallies. I'll get back to it after I finish BL and WoEP which should be in about 6 mo to a year. Other than that, thanks to everyone who participated and please enjoy these two chapters for now._

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><p>As the four elves make their way down the winding troll caverns, what they see amazes and repulses them, not unlike the creatures who had built them. Some walls are riddled with colorful stones that shimmer and shine at the slightest bit of light, making the entire path sparkle in color. And then there are other tunnels where the walls ooze something they carefully try to avoid touching.<p>

The way they expertly navigate through the corners and crannies of the chiseled tunnels by Wildwind's lead makes it abundantly clear he knows them well. Too well. It means he'd spent more time in them than Flame or Crow had guessed, and although they aren't happy with him for it, there's not denying that there's a certain amount of relief in knowing they won't get lost.

Still, there's always the possibility of stragglers—those trolls who chose to stay and scavenge over the dead carcass of the once far-reaching underground settlement—and the wary four have their senses heightened for any sign of danger. The entire time, Flame's hand rests on the pommel of her sword. Nymeria has her teeth and claws, but she has her sword, Needle, for any creatures with an itch to attack, trolls below or the humans above.

Even Wildwind's shoulders are tense and his eyes alert. As familiar as he is with these caverns doesn't let his guard down for a moment which is some comfort for Crow and Flame that he at least does understand the dangers in the caverns even if he's been reckless for coming down into them.

The wolves don't seem as uncomfortable, though. Flame wonders if it's because they made their collective den, their home, in the ground not unlike the trolls. Their dens are much smaller, but she wonders if there's a sense of security that comes from being hidden away from the world above.

After a while, the three start to wonder if Wildwind actually knows his way to the humans' village before he points to a small, round compartment at the end of one of the tunnels. **There,** he sends his thought to the group and they rush ahead with rejuvenated speed.

Crow insists that he should be the first to check the hatch, to see if its clear for them to enter the village. No one argues because the thoughts sent from him are laced with an anger none of them have ever felt from their cousin's mind before. It scares all three into acquiescence.

He climbs the notches of stone and twists the lock on the hatch until it clicks, and then he opens it slowly. What he sees is shared with the rest telepathically: branches surrounding the hatch door, and beyond that, humans milling about unaware that the hatch even exists. The clever trolls built their doorway under a thicket of evergreen shrubs that grow very sweet berries. Of course the humans would never remove it inside their little village, and so long as the trolls didn't use the door during berry picking season, the humans were none the wiser.

It was at the altar that Crow stopped looking around them, spotting three elven bodies strapped to the sacrificial stones. One was limp and clearly its spirit was long gone, but the chests of the other two still moved with life, although one more than the other.

**What do we do?** Wildwind shares his thought, and Highbranch answers with the images of their wolves terrorizing the humans, distracting them, with the telepathic guidance of two elves while the other two elves unbind the captives. It's unanimously agreed that it's the best idea they could have with only four elves and four wolves against an entire human village in such a short amount of time.

The wolves are lifted up and out of the hatch. They're already at the side of the village where the sun-goes-down before the humans even know that they're there. Highbranch and Wildwind are the ones to stay behind. Crow insisted that Wildwind not go deeper into the village, but to stay behind as the greater eyes for the wolves to wreak the most havoc whileFlame and Crow slip out of the hatch and towards the altar.

The shaman and his acolytes stayed behind to guard their offerings to their gods, but their eyes are on the commotion at the other end of the walled village. As small and light as elves tend to be, it's not hard for them to sneak past the humans and behind the stones. Crow slices through the twine that binds the first elf and is able to catch her before she hits the ground, but when Flame frees the second elf, his dead weight hits the ground hard, alerting the humans nearby.

**Shadow!** Crow calls to his wolf through their mental bond and Flame does the same with Nymeria as she tries to pull her elf up.

"It's no use," Crow's elf says weakly in his arms. "I heard his last breath a heartbeat before you reached us."

**Leave him,** Crow tells Flame just as their wolves reach them. Crow slides his charge over Shadow and hops on behind at the same time Flame grabs Nymeria to do the same. The wolves are charging through the village with spears raining down around them, but they seem to know exactly where to move to dodge them. It's almost certainly the help of Highbranch and Wildwind.

The wolves plow through the berry bushes and jump into the hatch door opened wide, landing on all fours at the bottom before the hatch slams shut and locks above them.

The four wolves and now five elves can hear the humans pounding on the metal hatch, but there's no way they'll ever get it. Wood can never damage troll metal.

Able to catch their breath, they all take a good look at the only elf they were able to rescue. She has deep gashes at her wrists and ankles like the other two, and her blood is everywhere. Her eyes are closed, now, and they can't wake her, so they do the only thing they can: they retrace their steps through the caverns and hope them get back to the holt before her spirit leaves her body.  
>…<p>

The other four of their tribe are anxiously awaiting their return, no doubt having heard the human drums stop and knowing that Flame, Crow and the rest had something to do with it. When they return with another elf, anxiety is tamped down in favor of curiosity as each tries to get a better look, all of them except Gentlemist.

The elf shies away from the gathering, but it's Crow who insists that she lay hands on the elf. "You have to heal her," he says to the elf even as she shakes her head and holds her arms close to her body.

They all know why she's like this. As the only healer of their tribe, the only one who can magically heal wounds, it's her duty to use her abilities as the tribe needs, but they don't typically ask her to do it. Broken bones and deep cuts are remedied instead of healed because Gentlemist hasn't healed a thing since the last time she attempted to heal someone, an attempt that never should have happened.

Trying to fend off humans, Gentlemist's mother's head and body were severed gruesomely. Gentlemist was the first to find her. So young, desperate to have her mother back, and with no one to stop her, she tried to rejoin head to body. They say the effort damaged mind, body, and soul.

This was all before Flame was even born, and that was the last time Gentlemist had ever used her magic. The poor elf hadn't been the same since, always clinging to her sister, always hiding from what scares her instead of facing it head on.

But this isn't a broken bone or scrape. An elf's life is in danger, and Crow won't to take no for an answer.

Even as she tries to hide her face in her sister's shoulder and cries hysterically, Crow won't relent. Even as she takes those slow steps towards the unknown elf, trembling like a newborn fawn, he keeps sending her a steady stream of thoughts insisting she do this.

Gentlemist lowers herself to the ground with the strange elf and, with the support of her sister behind her, she closes her eyes before placing her palms together. They could almost hear the crackle of power between them that only grows deeper in sound with her concentration. Somewhere in the trance of magic, the tension in Gentlemist's body disappears. She's fighting death like the she-wolf she is that's been hidden behind years of pain and fear.

The unknown elf shifts and moans, her face twisting at Gentlemist's touch until the healer pulls herself away, falling back onto the ground. Spark, Snowbloom, and Oak are there to take care of her, but she lifts herself up enough to tell Crow that she's healed all she could.

It isn't much. The gashes inflicted by the humans are still there, but they aren't bleeding anymore and Flame thinks that the healing must have been on the inside rather than the outside.

Flame helps Crow carry and lift the elf into one of the empty dens and settles her into the extra furs all of the elves in the tribe could gather. The stranger wakes, barely, with her eyes rolling everywhere as though she can't focus on any particular thing for more than a heartbeat until they settle on Crow. They widen at him and her eyes flutter close just after she breathes a word, no, a name: "Jahn."

Crow's back is still towards Flame, and she watches it for movement, any reaction. She won't do anything until he does because the weight of what just happened is too much.

The name the elf uttered was a soulname, her tribe's only defense when it comes to the openness of telepathy. When there are so many to share your thoughts with, so many to enter your mind, there has to be a way to shut them out from the deepest part of your being. Their tribe developed soulnames for that very reason, as the key to a lock in the deepest recesses of the mind.

Close family, friends, and lovers sometimes share them as a sign of an utmost closeness, but sometimes when the soul meets soul when eyes meet eyes, that key is given to another subconsciously through telepathy. It's what some elves dread, some fear, and some wait their whole lives for. Such an exchange means to be laid bare to the other, no secrets, nothing but who the two are at their very core. Still, all of that is by the byproduct of its true purpose: to trigger the primal drive to mate. When this happen, they call it…

"Recognition," Crow breathes, finally breaking the silence but just barely.

It's the only way elves reproduce, and there's no doubt what the elf uttered before she slipped back into unconsciousness was his soulname. Flame has known it for most of her life, just as he's known hers because that's the bond she shares with him. Flame still doesn't know her brothers' or sister's soulnames, though, because that's the kind of bond she shares with them.

"Her name is Ygritte," he tells her. Of course he would know, because in that moment when eyes met eyes, everything was open to the other. Nothing was held back. "And she doesn't have a soulname."

"That's odd," Flame says, but everything about this elf is odd. Everyone from their tribe has a ruddy complexion with either brown, auburn or blond hair, but this elf is as pale as snow with fire-red hair. As Flame stares at her cousin and his soulmate, she realizes that there must be another tribe and wonders what they're like. She wonders if they are friendly. She hopes for Crow's sake, that they are because he's about to share blood with them.

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><p><em>In Elfquest, Recognition is one of those topics that is very complex thanks to several years of published stories molding and shaping it as well as years of fan speculation.<em>

_The gist is that elves don't generally have children unless recognition hits them. They can but typically won't try to without it because the children through recognition are considered to be stronger than those without. And in a world this dangerous, wouldn't you want your kids to be the strongest they can be?_


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